


hold your course, here comes the calvary

by everqueen



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angus doesn't know he's a dragon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, dragon Angus, dragon Avi, in the past, mostly a good feels fic, nobody knows that avi is a dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everqueen/pseuds/everqueen
Summary: something's up with Angus(title from "Don't Let It Get You Down" by JOHNNYSWIM)





	1. Chapter 1

Something’s up with Angus.

Avi leans against the cannon, watching the Director and Angus through the open door. They’re on the quad, Angus shying away from her. She’s been acting a little weird, the Director, especially around Angus. She keeps calling him into her office, stepping around him in the dining hall, asking after his health. Now, it sounds like they’re talking about… shapeshifting? Avi is only surprised that Taako isn’t there, what with his transmutation and all.

He hums tunelessly, tapping at his flask, and lets his hearing sharpen beyond what is usually possible in his humanoid form. It’s chill, no one else is in the hanger to see his ears shift. He filters through the rush of sound with the ease of long practice and aided by the brandywine sloshing through his system.

(Not that he’s drunk, of course, it would take a lot more alcohol than what’s available at Fantasy Costco for Avi to get drunk, but then, it never hurts to appear non-threatening, and being known as the amiable half drunk cannon guy is a pretty good gig, all things considered).

“Really, ma’am, I’m just fine,” Angus is saying, hands fiddling in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He’s looking up at the Director, but he doesn’t seem happy about it, watching the area just above her left ear instead of looking her in the eye.

“Angus, are you sure?” the Director asks. She seems… frustrated. Not visibly, but Avi can taste it in the back of his throat, like spice in a bubbling stew. She’s frustrated, and worried, along with the metric fuckton of other emotions this woman is always feeling, 24/7. Honestly, he’s been around humans enough to know that the Director’s emotional state isn’t exactly _normal_ for humans. She should really get that checked out, maybe talk to someone. Brad’s nice.

“Really, ma’am!” Angus chirps insistently, summoning a smile that would be transparent for anyone, humanoid or not. “It’s normal for my back to be a little sore after spending all day in the library looking over ancient tomes and secret scrolls!”

Avi hums again, ears flicking up. This is new.

The Director considers him for a moment. “Angus, come with me, please.”

“Okay, ma’am. Am I in trouble?”

“No, of course not,” she assures him, and oh, they’re heading for the hanger. Avi pulls his ears back into their human form and tucks his flask away. He makes a show of not even noticing them walk in, feeling the Director’s sharp eyes rake over his back before she sits next to Angus in the corner of the hanger.

“Are _you_ alright, ma’am?” Angus asks, a bit of a bite to his words. Avi, his back to them, grins at the boy’s nerve. “You haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“I rarely sleep much,” the Director deadpans, and Avi grins wider, feeling his teeth sharpen. The Director’s so much funnier than anyone gives her credit for. “This is about you.”

“I said I’m fine, Madam Director, but thank you for being concerned.”

“Angus, it’s not normal for a little boy’s joints to all crack at once when he stands up. You know you’re…” she pauses, and Avi tastes something sour, like rotten fruit, thick and cloying. Guilt, sharp and intense from the Director, although not directed at whatever’s going on with Angus. Interesting. “You know you’re safe here, right?”

Seems like this surprises Angus. “Safe, ma’am?”

“You don’t have to hide who you are.”

Steamed milk. Confusion, from Angus. “You’ve lost me, ma’am.”

The Director sits back and sighs. “Avi?”

“Uh, yes, Madam Director?” Avi turns, wiping at his clean hands with a rag. “I was just doing some work on the cannon. Fine tuning it, you know.”

“Can you go get a healer, please? Not Merle, someone… else. Emi, perhaps?”

“I don’t need a healer for a little joint pain.” Angus is exasperated now, citrus bursting on Avi’s non-human tongue. The boy even drops his usual honorific.

“Staying in one form too long isn’t healthy for you,” the Director says.

“Ma’am, I’m a flesh boy? This is the only form I have.”

Avi quickly stuffs the rag in his pocket to hide his hands. He’s always had difficulty controlling his scales when he’s excited, and his hands are very obvious. He practiced, with his human face, after the whole half-orc debacle in the Moonshae Isles a few decades back, but he still doesn't have his extremities down.

The Director sighs. “If you say so, Angus.” Her disappointment is thick, shot through with that sharp tang of worry. She glances at Avi. “I still want you to go see Emi. Avi will go with you.”

“Okay, ma’am,” Angus sighs, and holds out his hands. “Can I at least have my book back?”

She nods slightly and hands him a thick grimoire, on divination it looks like. “Oh, and Angus? Try this one too.” And she gives him another book, this one a primer on the metallic dragons. _Very_ interesting.

“Oh, thank you ma’am!” Angus says, with genuine excitement, bright and sweet. He smiles at Avi, who gives him a slow grin back.

“To the infirmary, Ango?”

“I suppose, sir,” Angus says, side-eyeing Lucretia. She narrows her eyes back and Avi has to work to stop his teeth from sharpening. “Thanks again for the book, ma’am.”

She nods and watches them go, her forehead crease deeper than usual. Avi ropes a lanky arm (brilliant humanoid thing, his true arms aren’t nearly so dexterous) around Angus as the kid buries his nose in the grimoire, occasionally reading a particularly neat passage out loud. Avi steers him around variou Bureau members and through hallways, greeting his coworkers and friends amiably.

Emi checks Angus out briskly and kindly, hands firm but gentle as she probes at Angus’s knees, shoulders, wrists. The boy is rigid, a frozen smile painted on his face. Emi’s nice, more friendly than Merle, like strong coffee flavored with hazelnut and and maybe a shot of Fantasy Jack. She well knows Angus’s fear (“just a bit of discomfort, sirs!") around doctors and healers, so she’s softer than usual. She clicks her tongue sharply.

“How long have you had pain like this, Angus?”

He shrugs, and Avi and Emi both catch the wince. “A while, I guess?”

“How long is a while?” Emi persists.

“A few months, maybe,” Angus says, finally meeting her eyes. She watches him sharply for another few seconds before nodding.

“Some healing spells, then,” Emi says.

“No!” Angus snaps, far louder than the boy usually talks. Avi and Emi both stare at him in shock. Angus is trembling ever so slightly, wide-eyed. He gulps. “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he says quietly, arms coming up around himself. “I just… I don’t want any healing spells, ma’am.”

The healer watches him for a moment, eyes narrowed. She has that same tang of worry that the Director did. “Very well,” she says finally, and digs in her cabinet for something. “Tea, then. Willow-based, good for pain. It doesn’t taste the best, but it will help.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Angus says, still quiet. He takes the tea and hops off the table, not meeting either of their eyes as he leaves the infirmary.

Avi follows him out, eyeing the boy thoughtfully, deciding that he’s going to ask the Director to take his monthly trip off-base tomorrow. Maybe it’s not much of his business, he’s mostly here to observe the humanoid races and a fake moon in the sky was too much to resist, but.

Why did Angus lie?

  



	2. Chapter 2

Avi doesn’t sleep, not nearly as much as the humanoid races do anyway. This suits him just fine, it gives him so much more time to work on the cannons, to go flirt with Johann, to say hi to the voidfish, and accomplish the half-dozen non-mechanical tasks the Director assigns him in any given week.

He’s still a little baffled as to why so many of his friends don’t sleep nearly the amount they need to.

The Director is one of them, drifting the halls of the moon base like a ghost, sometimes going through papers but mostly just wandering. She gives Avi a silent nod when she passes by the hanger bay, or when they skirt around each other in the halls, but rarely speaks.

Taako is another, although he mostly sticks by the kitchens, making dozens of delicious-smelling dishes and promptly throwing them in the trash. He too, doesn’t speak, or meet anyone’s eye.

Magnus jogs around the moon base sometimes, and comes into the hanger bay for a chat. If the man wasn’t so oblivious (or, to be kinder, more focused on other mysteries), he would surely have questioned why Avi is in the hanger bay at all hours. But he doesn’t, and they have fun drinking Avi’s brandywine and talking about many things of little importance.

Merle doesn’t seem to have issues sleeping, although he too is out late, but more often it’s to stargaze. He tells Avi, looking up at the stars when Avi was passing the quad one night, that he’s not much for regrets. He says it a lot, for someone who isn’t much for regrets.

Most alarmingly, Angus is also one of these. His quarters are not far from the Director’s, but he’s much more often in the library, or skulking around the Fantasy Costco, or occasionally climbing through the vents. Avi has caught him more than once gazing out over Faerun, a little too close to the edge for Avi’s liking, although quite often the Director joins him before Avi feels he has to intervene.

But today is one of those nights where no one seems to be out. The Director is holed up in her study, the kitchen is silent, no powerful footfalls echo through the halls, the quad lacks a dwarf. Avi walks silently, hands in his pockets, flicking between his original and human eyes just because he can. It’s when he’s using his original eyes, a brilliant faceted green, that he notices Angus.

He’s sitting on the very edge of the moon base, kicking his legs absently as he looks out over the world. His wand is in his hand and he occasionally rubs at his eyes, and as Avi gets closer, he hears the sniffling.

Avi makes sure he’s entirely in his human form and then deliberately steps more firmly on the path. Angus starts and swipes at his eyes as he turns.

“Hey, Ango,” Avi says easily, walking over to join him.

“Hi, sir.”

“A little late, isn’t it?” Avi asks, looking at Angus quizzically until Angus nods. He plops down next to the boy, unfolding his long legs over the edge. Heights have never bothered him, of course, and he revels in the soft rush of wind over his skin. It would be better over scales, but you can’t have everything all the time in this life.

“I guess so,” Angus says quietly, not looking at Avi.

They stare out over Faerun together in silence. The moon base is passing over Neverwinter, the brilliant lights of the Blue Lake District twinkling up at them. Avi feels Angus’s tension, wound like a spring, tasting like hot metal and salt. He nudges Angus gently, choreographing his movement so the boy sees it coming, and is relieved when Angus lets him.

“You, uh, you good, kiddo?” Avi asks, debating bringing out his flask. If Angus is human he’s still far too young, probably, but if he’s what Avi suspects, it would probably be fine. Probably. Avi hasn’t kept track of ages in a long time.

Angus shrugs, a flash of pain wrinkling his face before he smooths it over. “Yeah,” he says.

Avi hums tunelessly again and silently casts True Sight.

His glance at Angus drives Avi to a fury that he hasn’t felt in centuries.

He seems his human form, no problem, but curled up tightly within it is his twitching true form, all sharp teeth and brilliant brass scales and strong elegant wings. But there’s something wrong, something burning with a sick black fire on his back, keeping Angus’s true form locked away. It doesn’t stop him from growing, but it does stop him from being free, and that’s  _ hurting _ him.

To put it simply, Angus is a dragon.

To make it more complicated, Angus doesn’t know.

Avi only realizes how close he is to losing control when he snorts out lightning. Angus jumps in shock and it’s only instinct that saves him from a long, long fall as he scrambles backward.

“Sir!” he says, shocked. “Are you okay? Something bright came out of your nose!”

“Oh, uh, yeah, Angus,” Avi says, coughing away his mouthful of sharp teeth and forcing his lightning back into its usual coil in his gut, where it roils angrily. “Sorry, I just have a weird cold? You know how it gets sometimes.”

“I’ve never had a cold that made me sneeze lightning, sir.”

Because it’s not your breath weapon, Avi doesn’t say. He breathes deeply, getting himself back under control, and is glad of the darkness for hiding the scales that undoubtedly erupted over most of his extremities.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Angus says, and Avi scents suspicion, acidic and cold.

“I’m good, Ango,” Avi says, offering him a smile with all human teeth and everything. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep? I’m beat myself, and,” he fakes a yawn, proud that he willed away the sharpness. “I think I’m gonna hit the hoard.”

“The what?”

“The hay,” Avi corrects. “Sorry, one of those weird sayings my family used to mix up.”

“Right,” Angus says doubtfully, but he rises as Avi does and heads vaguely in the direction of his rooms as Avi waves.

Avi waits in the hanger bay, with a stillness rarely attained by the humanoid races, until he’s sure Angus is nowhere nearby, and then he lets out his claws and teeth, breathing harshly. He’s known of humans, and it’s always humans, who would dare do something so cruel as snatch a hatchling from their parents and force them into human shape, for status, or power, or greed.

It never ends well for the hatchling.

Avi lets himself rage for another few seconds before calming himself, pulling his claws and teeth back behind his humanoid form. He resolves to take Angus along on his trip, and get to the bottom of what exactly is going on.

And if he has to pay a visit in his own true form to anyone, well.

Avi grins in the darkness, and maybe not  _ all _ of his teeth are human.

It would genuinely be his pleasure.


	3. Chapter 3

“Where are we going, sir?” Angus asks the next day, tossing his bag into the sphere and fairly bouncing with excitement.

“Oh, someplace chill,” Avi says casually, keying in the coordinates. Brad waits nearby, smiling at Angus. He’s usually the one Avi asks to fire him off. He doesn’t need a sphere, of course, but no one here knows that, so he keeps up appearances. Besides, getting fired out of a cannon is _fun_.

“Are you ready?” Brad asks Angus, watching him sternly until Angus buckles his seatbelt.

“Yes sir!”

“Thanks, Brad,” Avi says, settling into the seat next to the brake. “See ya in a few days.”

“Bye!” Angus calls as Brad closes the door.

Avi’s coordinates are precise, as always, and he’s done this more than a few times now. Brad fires them off and they go flying into the early morning light. It’s not as good as flying with wings, but it’s the closest the humanoids have ever come to imitating it, and he doesn’t bother holding back his smile as Angus delights in it.

He pulls the brake with perfect timing, landing them gently in a forest clearing not far from an empty beach far up the Sword Coast. His preferred place is actually much further on, but no need to raise suspicion at this point. He and Angus climb out and watch the sphere take off and float back up to towards the moon base.

“Is this where you go every month?” Angus asks, looking around curiously.

“Not exactly, bud,” Avi says. “Up for a hike?”

Angus is. He’s almost certainly still in pain, but he keeps up with Avi just fine. It helps that he barely stops talking, excited about everything, pointing out interesting bugs and plants and talking about the magical properties of trees. Makes sense, given his type, and Avi is only a little surprised to find himself unbothered by it. Usually he values the quiet on these trips, but this change is well worth it. And Angus knows a lot, for a little dude.

“Oh no,” he hears Angus say suddenly, when they’re only about fifteen minutes away from their destination. They’ve been walking for much of the day, save for a stop for lunch, and Angus has been talking almost the whole time. The silence now is deafening.

“You okay back there?” Avi asks. He hadn’t sensed anything happen.

“Yes sir,” Angus says, much quieter now.

Avi waits, but the kid doesn’t say anything else. “Okay,” Avi says, swinging around to see him. Angus is still walking dutifully behind him, but he’s twisting his hands together, face tight. “Tell me what’s up, Angus.”

Angus hesitates for far too long before he lets it all out in a rush: “I’msorryIwastalkingtoomuchandbeingtooloudI’msorry.”

“Uh,” Even with Avi’s heightened hearing, he couldn’t make all those words out. “Sorry bud, can you say that again a little slower?”

Angus takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was talking too much and being too loud, I’m sorry,” he says again, more clearly, still speeding up at the end.

“Oh,” Avi blinks a few times. “Oh. Angus, talk all you want.”

“What?” Angus peers at him suspiciously. “No one ever tells me that.”

“It feels good to talk without someone telling you to shut up, huh? Lighter?”

“Yeah,” Angus says slowly, still squinting at Avi. “How did you know?”

“Just a thought, bud,” Avi says with a shrug. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

Angus is still quiet, and Avi can feel eyes boring into his back, but after a few minutes, Angus starts talking again, this time about the terrain, and the combination between beach and forest that seems unusually lush for this time of year. But even Angus is struck silent as they reach their destination.

Avi’s home away from moon base is a small bay, hidden from the rest of the Sword Coast. It’s ringed with a shallow beach of soft sand, the rich blue water lapping softly at the shoreline. The whole bay is surrounded by dense woods, deeper than the path Avi and Angus traveled, crowding closely to the shore, save for a rounded patch of grass about the size of the moon base’s quad. But the highlight of the hidden cove is a tall, jagged stone hill, dropping straight down into the water. There’s the entrance to a cave about thirty feet up, albeit with no clear way to get up there.

“Ahhh,” Avi sighs, dropping his pack on the grass and stretching. “Here we are.”

“Where is here, sir?” Angus asks. He has his thinking face on, looking between the hill with the cave and the beach with the water and the open grass, absorbing the salt tang in the air mixing with the rich scent of the evergreens, and Avi’s smiling face. “Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you a dragon?”

Avi grins. “Yep.”

Angus blinks several times and takes a not-so-subtle step away. “Oh.”

“Bronze, specifically,” Avi explains. “Don’t worry, bud. I’m not gonna eat you.”

“I k-know,” Angus stutters, eyeing him warily. “Bronze dragons are typically good. At least, that’s what the book The Director gave me said.”

“The book’s right,” Avi says, plopping down on the grass and patting the ground next to him. Hesitantly, Angus sits, still not particularly close. “Although I’m a little… odd, for a bronze.”

“Nobody else knows, do they sir?” Angus says.

“No one living, except you.” Angus shrinks back at that, and Avi hastily waves a hand. “Sorry, sorry! That was unnecessarily ominous. I just mean it’s been a while since I told anyone, and a while for dragons, well…”

“Longer than humanoid species, I get it,” Angus pushes up his glasses, a familiar gleam in his eye. “So why are you telling me now?”

“You know how the Director’s been acting weird?”

Angus looks at him, nibbling on a fingernail before nodding. “Yeah. She keeps telling me about how I’m safe and I can take other forms if I want to? And giving me books on dragons?”

Avi waits.

It doesn’t take long, Angus is a smart kid, and his eyes widen. “I’m not a dragon! I can’t be!”

“You are,” Avi says. He’s in the dark about this, he’s never actually _known_ a hatchling raised without the knowledge of what they really were, but he loves Angus, and he’s not about to let him go through this alone. “I don’t know your whole…” he waves a vague hand. “ _Situation_ , but there’s something wrong on your back.”

“My back?”

“Is it okay if I look?”

“I still don’t believe you, sir,” Angus says, but he’s putting his pack carefully to the side and pulling up his shirt, turning around.

Avi sucks in a breath, feeling that hot anger rage in his gut, lightning driving to consume. There’s something… _horrible_ , on Angus’s back, something that shouldn’t even exist, let alone be inked into the skin of a child. It’s a complex sigil, meant for sealing, etched with tiny runes designed for imprisonment, for inhibiting growth, for blocking magic. It has strangely organic edges, and Avi feels his eyes flip draconic as he realizes it was designed to grow as Angus did.

“Who did this to you?” he growls, and it takes Angus’s flinch for him to realize how deep his voice is.

“Are you talking about the tattoo, sir?”

“This _monstrous_ \--”Avi stops, calms himself with an effort. “Yeah, kiddo, the tattoo. Where did you get this?”

“I’ve always had it.”

Avi takes a few deep breaths, tugging Angus’s shirt back over the abomination. Angus turns back around and his eyes widen.

“Sir, your eyes are green. And you have scales!”

“What?” Avi glances down and rolls his now-green eyes upon seeing his hands ripple with glimmering bronze scales. “No worries, bud,” he says. “It just happens sometimes.” He glances up, meeting Angus’s eyes. The kid is a lot braver than he gives himself credit for: curiosity and a healthy apprehension are warring in his eyes, and the curiosity is winning. “Hey, Angus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna see?”

“Oh!” Angus smiles. “Yes, very much, sir!”

Avi grins, letting his real teeth through with relief. Angus goes back to nibbling on his fingernail but he’s still watching intently. “Okay, but you’ll have to stand back,” he says, rising to his feet and going to the middle of the grass. Angus backs up so he’s near the trees, eyes on Avi. “Ready?”

Angus gives him a big thumbs up.

Changing back to his draconic form is the greatest relief Avi knows. He loves being in humanoid form, loves the opposable thumbs and the weird hair and seeing in different colors, but nothing feels quite as good as being able to _stretch_.

He lets his lower half change first. Long, sturdy human legs become thicker than tree trunks, bronze scales flowing like water, surfacing to cover newly clawed feet. He does his arms next, bidding goodbye to hands in exchange for his powerful forelegs. As he shifts to four limbs, his glorious green-tipped wings burst from his back, his tail curling out to lash the air. Last of all, he lets go of his human face, giving a shocked Angus one last wink before shaking out his muzzle, his facial horns curving backwards.

“Ahhhh,” he says, enjoying his voice rumbling in the chest of a size it was meant for. “That feels better.” He looks down at Angus, bowing his head to the kid’s level, trying to smile without showing too many sharp teeth. “What do you think?”

“Avi?” Angus squeaks, and whoops, the kid looks much more scared now. “Is that you, sir?”

“Sure is, my guy,” Avi says. “I’m not scaring you too much?”

Angus has the gall to look offended, as if Avi couldn’t taste the sourness, like curdled milk. “I’m not scared, sir,” he says. “I just never thought I would be face to face with a real bronze dragon.”

Avi laughs, and immediately regrets it when Angus flinches. “Ango, you’re a dragon too. Drango!”

“I’m really not, sir,” Angus says as firmly as he can, pushing up his glasses with shaking hands.

Avi hums, odd as it sounds in his dragon throat. He got used to it as a human, that’s all. “Well, climb on.”

“Sir?”

“We gotta get up to my lair,” Avi says, lowering down so Angus can climb up.

“You really mean it?” It’s harder to read a humanoid’s facial expressions while in his true form, but Angus looks excited, that curdled milk scent vanishing. “I get to… fly?”

“You’ll get to fly on your own, once we get that thing on your back sorted out,” Avi says, amused. “But yeah, bud.”

Angus doesn’t need any more convincing, clambering up with some difficulty. Avi waits until he’s settled, feeling small hands grip his neck fringe, and then he crouches and rockets up, his wings singing his joy as he flaps once, twice, bringing them high above the treeline. Angus is screaming, but it’s high-pitched and delighted, however tightly those little hands are holding onto him now. Avi grins and swoops down and up again, letting himself stretch while giving Angus a ride.

It’s far more than what was strictly required to get to his lair, but then, Avi has never really seen the point of doing things in the most straightforward way. What’s the point if you don’t get to have a little fun along the way? Like he told Angus, he’s always been a little… odd, for a bronze. But those who would care are long gone, and Angus hasn’t stopped laughing since they took off.

Eventually Avi coasts down to land on the ledge leading into his lair, and he helps Angus slide off before they walk inside. Avi’s strides are much longer now, but Angus is walking quickly enough to keep up, a stream of questions unleashed. Most of them are about flying, but Avi does catch one about where his human clothes went, and laughs at it.

Eventually they reach the center of Avi’s lair, where he eats and sleeps, as well as displays his most prized possessions. It doesn’t seem to surprise Angus at all, when Avi explains how he grew to hoard technology, arcane and otherwise, along with the books explaining them.

“You have machine oil on your scales, sir,” Angus says.

“I had it on my human face too,” Avi says good-naturedly. He sighs and pushes Angus back with a careful claw. “Hold on, I have to go back for a little.”

“Aw,” Angus says, sounding as disappointed as Avi feels. “Why?”

“Opposable thumbs, kiddo,” Avi says, stretching out one last time before he tucks it all away again, shrinking rapidly into the human Angus knows.

“So your clothes _do_ stay with you.”

“Yeah, a handy little spell,” Avi says, scooping his hair into a neat ponytail, a technique learned from Brad. “A steel dragon friend of mine developed it.”

“Neat.”

Angus, given free rein, explores the cavern while Avi heads for his books. Researching has never been his strong suit, he always preferred to get his claws in the thick of things, but he distinctly remembers he has a few old books on transformation magic of the type binding Angus.

Dragons have long memories, and those memories rarely lie.

By the time Angus comes over to investigate what Avi is doing, he’s found exactly the sort of situation Angus was placed in, dealing with humans snatching hatchlings and forcing them to their bidding. He also finds the ritual to break a rescued hatchling free from such bindings.

“Got it,” he says with a grim smile.

“Got what, sir?” Angus asks.

“Your ‘tattoo’, Angus? Is bullshit, and I’m gonna fix it.”

“Do you still think I’m a dragon?” Angus asks, raising an eyebrow. Avi sighs inwardly. Even a little hatchling like Angus has the single eyebrow raise down, and Avi just never could.

“You are, and I’ll prove it,” Avi says, and goes to collect ingredients.

His wings and tail are complaining, missing their freedom, by the time he has everything he needs. He piles it all into a bag and warns Angus before shifting back with relief, gesturing for the kid to hop on. Angus does with eagerness and Avi pulls another longer flight in the air before touching down on the grass. The sun is lowering now, but there’s still plenty of time for Avi.

He sets up the ritual as quickly and efficiently as if he were assembling a machine, Angus calling out occasional questions. He spreads out the rainbow shells, the calcified lightning, the dripping kelp, inscribing the needed runes all around, leaving space for him and Angus. Preferably he would use a brass dragon’s scales, to match Angus, but his own will do in a pinch.

At last it’s ready. He gestures the kid -- the hatchling -- into his space and readies the chant. Angus, after a careful look, steps into the circle.

It’s a tricky business, this seal. It was well designed, and cruelly applied.

But Avi is very old, and very skilled, and very, very angry.

Although it leaves him shaking and tired, wings trembling above him, the sigil comes undone, unrooting itself from Angus’s skin and curling in on itself like a dead spider. Angus sees it fall and flinches away, and Avi shoots out a narrow bolt of lightning, incinerating the broken spellwork.

The air is silent and still, save for Avi’s harsh breathing.

“Sir?” Angus says finally. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I think I’m, uh, pretty cool,” Avi says. “How do _you_ feel?”

“Um, great, sir!” Angus says, stretching his hands in front of him. “None of my little boy joints hurt anymo--AA _AAAHH WHAT’S GOING ON_?!”

“It’s okay, Drango,” Avi says, as calmly as he can. “You’re just shifting back into your natural body.”

Angus is panting, frantic, but his true form is breaking free, shimmering brown-gold scales sliding over his body, strong brass wings springing out and radiating heat and light, his sturdy tail whipping around and hitting himself in the now-draconic legs.

Angus finishes screaming at about the same time that he finishes transforming, give or take a few moments,, and then Avi is left with a young, scared brass dragon, little more than a hatchling, faceted golden eyes darting back and forth before fastening on Avi.

“Sir?” the voice that comes out is still Angus, but with an undercurrent of hot metal and flowing heat, the true voice natural to a brass dragon. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” Avi says patiently. “How do you feel?”

Angus thinks about this for a while, Avi content to sit and wait. “Good,” he says finally. “ _Really_ good, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.”

“I expect you wouldn’t remember it, no,” Avi says. “What do you say to a flight?”

Angus, dragon form or no, lights up. “You really mean it?”

Avi laughs. “Drango, you have _wings_ . You’re a _dragon_. There are very few people or creatures who can tell you what to do.”

“But…” Angus’s tail twitches. “I don’t know how to fly.”

“Yeah, ya do,” Avi says, stretching. “You’re born knowing.”

“I don’t know, sir…”

“Well,” Avi says. “Do what you like. I’m going to a sunset flight over the shore.”

He takes off, launching himself into the air with his powerful legs, and flaps a few times until he get catch the air currents, drifting into a lazy glide. The sun is drifting towards the horizon now, painting the air and sea with gold and pink. He twists and enjoys the way it plays off his brilliant scales. He swoops low over the water and dips the tip of his wing in it, sending up a sparkling spray.

It doesn’t take nearly as long as Avi thought, but then, Angus has always been a brave kid. He hears the uncertain flap of newer wings and sees the gold-brown shine from Angus’s scales as he lifts unsteadily from the clearing. Avi turns in a slow loop to watch as Angus nervously flaps up over the trees towards him.

“There ya go,” Avi says. “Catch the air currents and glide, it’s easier.”

“How do I do that, sir?”

“Feel the air slip past your wings.”

“Okay?”

“It’s not seeing, exactly, but you can sense the way they move, and just kinda,” Avi dips his wing, illustrating. “See?”

“Not really, sir.”

“Oh, I know,” Avi says. “All those complicated words for flight dynamics that the humanoids came up with, would those help? You like words, yeah?”

Angus nods, wobbling, and Avi does. He wasn’t being quite fair, perhaps, since he came up with a lot of the terminology back when the humanoids were first trying to figure out flight, and some new ones when he was designing the cannons on the moon base. It’s not perfect, translating instinct to words, but the hatchling seems to be getting it a lot easier, and stabilizes quickly once Avi explains air currents in terms of physics.

After that, instinct takes over, and Angus is swooping and laughing and diving towards the sea, joy radiating like light from his every movement. Avi watches with that lightning rage still simmering deep in his gut towards the cruelty of whoever dared try to take this away from the kid. He tucks it away for now and swings closer to Angus.

“Hey, Drango?”

“This is so much fun!” Angus yells.

“Heh, yeah it is. You wanna show me how fast you can go?”

Angus curves his great head towards Avi, a fiery grin curving his face, a gleam in his eyes. “Can I?”

“To that outcropping?” Avi says, gesturing towards a spire of rock sticking up among the waves, about half a mile away. “A race, perhaps?”

“A race?”

Avi hums, more of a rumble in his draconic form. “If you think you can beat me.”

Angus grins wider. “I wouldn’t be too confident if I were you, sir!”

And with that, he’s off, drawing his wings in to streamline his body, darting towards the spire with glee, whooping all the way. Avi laughs and lets him get a bit ahead before taking off, swooping after the smaller dragon with powerful beats of his wings. He’s stronger, and more experienced, but Angus has the advantage of pure excitement and being able to really know himself for the first time in his memory. He’s also clever, taking advantage of the air currents and even diving low to spray salt water in Avi’s face.

It’s a lot closer than Avi would have thought, but he does slow down to let the kid win, Angus rounding the rock spire a wingspan before Avi. He latches on with his powerful claws and laughs at Avi. “You let me win, sir!”

“Eh, maybe a little,” Avi says, shrugging as he hovers in front of the spire, keeping himself aloft with the occasional beat of his wings. “I told you you could fly.”

“Can we...” shyness doesn’t typically fit well on a dragon’s face, but Angus somehow manages. “Can we keep flying?”

“Yeah, bud,” Avi says. “Course we can.”


	4. Chapter 4

They spend a long time flying, well past the time where the stars come out, twinkling over the sea, the real moon rising and flooding the shoreline with silvery light, slipping over their scales like the water does. Avi could fly all night, and the next day besides, but Angus is drooping, worn out after the revelations of the day. Avi gently nudges him back towards his lair, and they settle on the grass outside, both watching the water lap softly at the hidden beach.

“Avi?” Angus asks quietly, craning his neck towards him.

“Hmmm?”

“How come I thought I was human?”

Avi goes still. “What do you remember?”

“Just humans. I’ve always had that spell on my back, and I was never allowed up high things even though I liked high things. Sir and Madam were always telling me that I had to be quiet and I wasn’t allowed to talk unless someone asked me a direct question.” Angus heaves a sigh, his whole body trembling, and Avi shifts so that their sides are pressed together, lifting one wing over them both. Thus sheltered, Angus continues. “I… I ran away, sir. I know it was wrong, but I was always sick and hurting and I had to sneak my books and the servants got fired if they talked to me, and,” he takes another deep breath. “I started solving mysteries, I’m good at them! And then,” he waves a claw, much like human Angus would wave a hand. “I found the Bureau, and the Director, and you know the rest.” he abruptly falls silent, leaning against Avi.

“You know the thing about brass dragons, Ango?” Avi says after a while, when it’s clear that Angus is done talking for the moment. “Cause that’s what you are, a brass dragon. They _love_ to talk. Sometimes we joke, among dragons, that brass dragons hoard conversation. It’s in your nature, and you know what, Angus?” Avi waits until Angus looks up at him. “It’s okay, bud. It’s okay to want to talk, and to be interested in everything, and share that with people. It’s good for you.”

Angus is silent for a long time, curling in more to Avi. “Thank you, sir,” he says at last, quiet.

“Yeah,” Avi says, resting his head on top of Angus. “Yeah. I got you, kid. I got you.”

Angus falls asleep there, resting by Avi’s side, while Avi watches the stars and thinks of revenge and teaching Angus how to dragon, and new mods for the cannons because he can multitask just fine, thank you very much.

Of course, he then goes into a spiral of debating with himself how best to fire a sphere so it just comes straight back into the cannon, and that takes up most of the rest of the night.

Angus wakes up not long after sunrise, his third eyelid flicking across his faceted eyes. He looks up at Avi and smiles. “Hello sir! Are we doing more flying today?”

“As you like,” Avi says, rising and shaking off the stiffness. “I have some things to go through in my lair, but if you want to spend the whole day flying, go for it.”

“Won’t someone see me, sir?”

“Nah,” Avi grins. “No one around here for miles and miles. One of the reasons why I picked this place. Besides, even if someone did see you, you’re a dragon. They’re not gonna mess with you, and if they did, _you’re a dragon_.”

“That didn’t stop the humans who called themselves my parents,” Angus says quietly.

“No,” Avi admits. “But you were a hatchling, a baby. You’re still young, Angus, but you’re not helpless.” He grins and watches Angus grin back, showing all his sharp, sharp teeth. “Nah, you’re a lot tougher than they are, and besides, I got your back.”

Angus nods and stands up. “Okay sir,” he says, more decisive now. “I’m going to fly for a while. I’ll come back for lunch?”

“Sure,” Avi says. “Just yell into the lair, we can eat outside.”

“Okay sir!” and Angus shoots up into the sky, letting out a delighted yell as he goes. Avi smiles and goes to take care of his own business, checking over his longer-term experiments, cleaning out the lair, and searching for that book on ancient musical compositions for Johann. He runs through his records too, looking for any sign of the Director or her ward, or the three Reclaimers, but aside from a few things recently about Magnus, he comes up with nothing. He hums absently, albeit without switching back to his human form. This is his only time to be fully draconic while still working with the Bureau, so he relishes it. He also takes the opportunity, while Angus is gone, to hunt.

Angus returns when the sun is high, as promised, and Avi meets him outside. Over fish and deer, the kid peppers him with questions, most of them about being a dragon, but a few that Avi wasn’t expecting.

“Do you think the Director is also a dragon?” he asks.

“What, the betting pool?”

“No -- well, yes -- but no, I’m curious. Something’s different about her, and she figured out that I was a dragon. Did _you_ know?”

“Not until I saw the Director asking you all those questions,” Avi says honestly. “And I used True Sight that night on the edge of the moon base. But no, I don’t think she’s a dragon. There’s something strange about her, but I dunno if it’s draconic.”

Angus clicks his tongue thoughtfully, the sound ringing and metallic against his sharp teeth. “Does the Director know that _you’re_ a dragon?”

Avi shrugs. “If she does, it didn’t stop her from hiring me. I’ve never shifted to my draconic form while working for her though, at least not where she could see.”

“Do I have to go back to my human form?”

“That’s up to you, my guy,” Avi says, putting down his fish. “Do you still want to work for the Bureau?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Do you want them to know you’re a dragon?”

Angus has to think about that one, staring blankly over the water while Avi picks up his fish again. Finally, he sighs. “No, I don’t think so? I trust the Director, and Taako and Magnus and Merle, but I don’t know how they would react if they knew.”

“They love you,” Avi says. “We all do, Angus. That’s not gonna change just cause you’re a dragon.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone, then?”

“Touche,” Avi laughs. “Habit, more than anything.”

“But I don’t wanna have to stay in human form for a long time,” Angus says, drooping. “It hurts, and I like my wings!”

“You shouldn’t,” Avi says. “That’s why I take these monthly trips, so I can stretch out. It’s not healthy to stay shifted too long, especially when you’re growing like you are. You should go back to your draconic form every few days.”

“But I can’t do that on the moon base.”

“Well,” Avi says thoughtfully. “I’m not too sure of that. You know that storage space closer to the bottom of the base, the one I use for spare parts for the cannons?”

“Yes.”

“It’s too small for me, but it would work just fine for you to shift and stretch out for a few hours. No one else really uses it except me, and you know I won’t tell.”

Angus is smiling again, flinging up his wings around Avi. “Thank you, sir!”

“Course, bud,” Avi says with another laugh.

“Really,” Angus says, a new note of seriousness. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here to help me.”

“Hey, you know,” Avi says, uncomfortable now. “I wasn’t just gonna leave ya on your own. And besides, you can come with me on these trips now and spend the whole time in your dragon form.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course,” Avi says again, before flipping his wing up in Angus’s face. “Hey, if you’re done eating, I’ll race you again.”

“Don’t let me win this time, sir!”

Angus rockets up, leaving Avi in his literal dust. Avi shakes it off with an exaggerated cough and launches up after him.

Both of them are laughing.

They spend the rest of the few days completely in dragon form. Avi teaches Angus how to swim, which he loves, and how to hunt, which he doesn’t. They also spend a lot of time talking about magic. It’s not Avi’s strong suit, but with dragons’ intrinsic magic, they’re able to work out a way for Angus to switch between his human and draconic form at will, and Avi helps him design a human form that won’t hurt him to be in, unlike that other construct with the sigil.

Avi also coaxes more details about Angus’s past, slowly and carefully. He will have to plan, but then, dragons have a lot of patience, a lot of time, and Avi has a lot of rage to fuel him, the sort of rage that isn’t going to fade. He’s been known to be laid back, for a dragon, strange for a bronze dragon in particular, but he thinks, bitterly, as he watches Angus dip a wing through the small bay and laugh at the spray, that he finally understands why bronze dragons are normally considered war machines with a cause.

They return to the moon base, both back in their human forms, Angus sans that evil sigil. Brad secures the sphere and greets them cheerfully, but leaves quickly as the Director enters the hanger bay.

“Hello Avi, Angus,” she says, watching them both carefully. “Did you both enjoy your trip?”

“Oh, yes ma’am!” Angus says cheerfully. “It was so much fun, and I learned a lot!”

“Good,” the Director says, sharp golden eyes piercing Avi now. “Any more pain?”

“Oh, no,” Angus assures her. “Miss Emi’s tea helped a lot, I think. And hanging out with Avi!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the Director says. “Will you tell me about it?”

Angus launches into the story as the Director leads him out. She turns, just before she leaves the hanger bay, and makes eye contact with Avi. He smiles, just regular, laid back, drinks a little too much cannon operator Avi, and nods. The Director, in a rare displays of open emotion, smiles back.

And if, a few months later, a certain mansion in Neverwinter is torched to the ground with a blast of powerful lightning that seemed to come out of nowhere, well.

Avi’s certainly not going to say anything.

He’s just going to smile, and drink his brandywine, and tend to the cannons.

And every so often, he meets up with Angus, and they fly.

**Author's Note:**

> i love dragon!angus and also i love avi so why not make them both dragons. avi is a bronze dragon because of the whole fighter thing and also how loyal he is, but i mixed some steel dragon attributes in there too. angus is a brass dragon because they love to talk and are really interested in information!!
> 
> comments/kudos? rad as fuck
> 
> thanks i love you bye!


End file.
